With Really Bad Eggs
by siriuswriter
Summary: He stood there, impatiently waiting for the two nonalcoholic drinks. Nonalcoholic drinks. Oh bugger. JOC
1. Bad Night?

**Bad Night?**

"Katherine! Yer ordr's up!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming." Katherine made her way through the maze of tables that was to the cook's counter at the back of the "Faithful Bride," picked up two pitchers of rum, and balanced them on her hips. Katherine was a rather tall curvy lass. Her words and accent came from the upper class but the way she used them came from the lower. She didn't allow fellows to get fresh, and prevented a lot of brawls by just tying up her long dark brown hair in a tight bun and giving "the look" with her brown eyes. Yes, "the look" was applied to many of the "too drunk" patrons of the "Faithful Bride" tavern, and many a times all that was needed in a drunk pirate was a reminder of mother, and "the look" seemed to do it.

It was spread around that Katherine Winston was as upright as the first stroke in the first letter of her first name, I. She sat on straight-backed chairs, she knitted sensible things like gloves and scarves in her break hours, she didn't tolerate tomfoolery toward herself, and didn't like it to go on around her. People joked about her the possibility of her lack of knowledge about the going's on in the brothel part of the "Faithful Bride," certain that Katherine would have a heart attack if she knew, and if she did know, she probably went around there every Sunday morning, distributing faith pamphlets that told people exactly how and why they were going to get into either heaven or hell.

So that night, with those two rum pitchers swaying enticingly on her hips (after all, she did know what she had to do for her job), Katherine made her way to the back corner table of the "Faithful Bride," the back corner where the more colorful folk asked for a table.

She put down one pitcher at the table, and then prepared to leave, when a voice halted her.

""Xcuse me, miss…" One of the forms at the table struggled to get out of the booth, while the other motioned for him to stay sitting, waggled his eyebrows up and down, and then had just a little less trouble getting out of his side of the booth, eventually standing. "'Xcuse…"

Katherine whirled around. The swaying figure, just free from the confines of the booth, and who had popped forward a little bit with the energy, ran into her, not expecting her to twirl and advance.

"What do you want," Katherine deadpanned, the swaying man's face now practically staring into her bosom. After asking her question, she took her free hand, caught the man's face, and shoved it backward. Alarmed, he yelled and staggered toward the corner and sliding backwards on the table. His companion began to laugh hysterically.

Katherine advanced again on the table, the first man's form laying spread eagle on the table. "What. Do you. Want." She was clearly annoyed.

The laughing man calmed himself. "We just ordered both those pitchers, Miss, not just the one."

She raised her eyebrow at him, then set the second pitcher right between the man on the table's legs.

"Enjoy your stay, sirs."

The man resumed his laughing, and tossed a couple of gold coins at Katherine, which she expertly caught and tucked into her apron pocket as she strode away.

"Why didn' I jus' le' them kill the whelp?" The man on the table groaned, his long mane of brown hair streaming out from his head.

"Because then you wouldn't be coming to the 'whelp's' wedding tomorrow. Or the eunuch's lover's wedding, as a matter of fact…" the laughing man said. "Amazing how your prediction's seem to turn out so, so wrong, Jack."

The one called "Jack" slowly sat up, rubbing his face gingerly, "And why didn' ya tell me she was the bloody demon. I wouldna…"

"You wouldn't have what? Stared directly into her breasts? Yes, that probably would have been a good thing."

"Shaddup Will. When did ya ge' ta be so damn smart?"

"When I started to listen to Elizabeth. Now listen, you still need an escort for tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure that one of the ladies back there in the brothel won't pass for 'upper-class." He held up his gloved hand. "Yes, I know you've told me how much fun it would be to bring Scarlet or Giselle and compare them to Mrs. Kensigton. But." Will pointed into Jack's face rather threateningly. "You've got to find a suitable escort somewhere around here by tomorrow, or Elizabeth is likely to keep you out. She's gone crazy over this whole wedding. It's a woman thing. Count yourself lucky you haven't been here the whole time." He took a large swig of rum, straight out of the pitcher.

"So she's ta blame for yer whole… stooping down ta the level of a pirate, then, I suppose…?" Jack grinned.

Will rolled his eyes. "Now don't forget, you've got to pick up your escort from wherever you may find her at 6:00 pm, show up at our place at 3:00 so Elizabeth can scrub you up a bit…"

"…why do I need ta be 'scrubbed up?" may I ask…"

Will looked pointedly at the reindeer bones hanging from Jack's hair.

"All roight, all roight, say no more…"

"Well I've got to be off then. Elizabeth wants to be sure that both of our outfits are ready."

Jack snorted.

"Yes, well, at least my escort is all planned…" Will said over his shoulder as he plopped a few coins on the counter at the front of the "Faithful Bride," pulled his coat tight about him, and set out into the cold night.

Jack sat there, sipping at the dregs of the rum for a few minutes, thinking of where the hell he would get a "suitable" escort for the Turner's wedding tomorrow. He sat there for a very long time, blending into the woodwork until it was surely past three o'clock, when all the taverns were supposed to close. Tilting his hat over his head, Jack began to listen to the noises of the barmaids cleaning up around the room, the clinking and washing of dishes, the chattering of the whores between customers, the general feeling of life in the mostly awake city of Port Royal.

After about fifteen minutes of listening, a pair of voices drowned out all the rest.

"Lord knows how I was invited up to the big wedding, Jamsie. I dunno if I'm even planning on going. She sent me a dress and everything, but…"

"Of course you should go! It'd be a prime opportunity ter… you know…."

"For you, maybe, but not for me. I've never done that, I wish you'd stop. I'm content making my living honestly. Why just look here, Jamsie, some lad gave me two solid gold coins today, and if I can keep that up, why I can get out of this in no time!"

"You keep sayin' that, you know it's not goin' to come true. Come on, how much money have you really made. Eh?"

There was a pause.

"That's wha' I thought. Now, let's go together to this party of yourn tomorrow and we'll get ourselves a nice little bundle of goodies and find a nice little 'otel and…"

Another, longer pause, abruptly interrupted.

"Stop it! Jamsie, stop it! STOP IT!"

Jack was brought out of his listening state into one of alert. He got out of the corner and softly made his way across the room, to see a stocky man with golden yellow curls forcibly kissing the woman who had served them before, her dark brownhair now tumbling out of it's tight bun, wound around one of his blocky hands and pulled back, his other hand at the back of her dress, fumbling at the buttons.

"JAMES!" she shrieked once more, and he pulled down harder on her hair. Apparently befuddled by the dozens of tiny buttons, he pulled at the top of the back of her dress, and ripped the fragile fabric all the way to the floor.

Suddenly a tiny sound made him let go, and send the woman crashing to the floor, breathing quickly, her eyes wide open, rarely blinking.

The sound of a gun's safety catch being let off.

"You know, mate, usually you wait to let the lady tell ya she's ready." A slurring voice. "James, was it? Never really had a liking for that name. Too many scallywags've got it." At this last, Jack "accidentally" let the barrel of his gun bump against the back of the golden haired James' head. He crumpled to the floor in a faint. "Not too brave a'tall, is 'e?" Jack said, his eyes going to the woman on the floor.

Katherine remembered the man as the one who had been so rudely staring at her bosom earlier in the night. She instinctively brought her hands up to cross her chest.

Noting the motion, Jack knelt down carefully by the barmaid's side. "What's yer name, girly?"

"Kath-rine." Still breathing rather quickly, she breathed in between the syllables.

"Okay. Katherine, love, you've got ta calm down, else yer gonna stop breathin all tagether. Ya hear?"

She nodded, haltingly.

"I'm just gonna take yer hand, all right?"

Her eyes flew open, but she nodded again.

"Right then. In. Out. In. Out." He felt ridiculous, acting out breathing, puffing out his stomach, and caving it in, but with her hand against it, and with the combination of the words, she started to slow her breathing, and her eyes closed after a great while.

"Oh bugger." He now had a deeply sleeping woman with an extremely torn dress on his hands, not to mention the big bloke over there who was bound to wake up at any moment. How did he get himself into this bloody situation!

Sure enough, the golden haired man started to stir, murmuring inaudible things. Jack was prepared to kick him in the gut, but thought the better of it and drew his sword instead.

As James sat up, Jack was ready for him, his sword drawn and pointed at his throat. "Wha's her room number?"

"What?"

"I said," Jack rolled his eyes, "wha's her room number? Barmaids stay 'ere free."

"Now look here, if you think I'm going to just leave and leave her with YOU…"

"And the alternative would be leaving here with you…?"

James had the grace to blush. "Room 4. Key's under the flowerpot."

"'ow original. Now, go. GO!" Jack mimed putting his sword into action, and James practically ran off. "Oh bugger." Half underneath the woman, Jack tried to get un-underneath her without waking her, and that provided a fair bit of maneuvering.

After about ten minutes, Jack succeeded in getting out from under her, but bringing along with him the loose flap of the dress. "Bugger bugger bugger." Now the right side of the bodice hung on loosely, and Jack did not want to count on there being anything under the dress – underwear, petticoat… and he didn't want his mind to drift this way, either. "Bugger." He finished, then strove to pick up Katherine by her left side, but not too far in, and at the same time, tucking in the right side of the back side of the dress.

"All right." Having lifted up the woman, he started toward the rooms of the "Faithful Bride," looking for room number 4. The noises coming from the other rooms not exactly helping, he found the flowerpot… on the ground. Letting out a few more strings of cuss words, Jack propped Katherine against the door, and attempted to fit the key into the door by all angles, when it finally fit. Holding up Katherine by the shoulder, he rotated the door inward, picked up Katherine again, and set her (none too gently) on the still unmade bed.

"By God, I hope you're grateful in the morning…" Jack Sparrow said as he left the unconscious woman's room, pocketing the key and replacing the flowerbed.


	2. Deal or No Deal?

A/N: I probably should mention that this takes place after AWE, as Barbossa is back in the picture, and Norry is back on the ladder of success at the Royal Navy. Savvy:D

Commodore Norrington sat at his desk, the morning sun freshly rising behind him over the ocean, sending sparkling light into his cabin. In front of him, a wizened prostitute stood, arranging and rearranging her dilapidated shawl. Beside her, his nephew, Jamsie Norringtion, stood guiltily, his golden head hung, his hands folded, his once-impeccable clothes ripped and soiled.

Norrington the uncle silently cursed his much older brother for bringing this scum into the world and naming the baby fondly after his "baby brother." In fact, James had been about three when "Jamsie" was born, and more like a cousin than an uncle to the baby, but the difference in years seemed to grow as James took the path of a navyman and Jamsie took the path of a… idler. Now, he pressed his temples with his thumb and forefinger, and said with annoyance, "What happened?"

The prostitute spoke up first. "Well, I run a business, same as you, guv'nor, same as you?"

James doubted that the business ran "the same," but he nodded anyway.

Encouraged, she went on, "So I've got the right to turn anyone away that I care to, doan I? So when this fella comes up, pretty ragged-lookin, I says to myself, I says, 'Tabby, you doan wanna deal with a fella tha's lookin' pretty punch drunk an' it ain' bu' three in the mornin'.'"

The elder Norrington lowered his head and looked out of the upper lids of his eyes. It was too early for this. What in hell did she just say?

Gilette sidestepped and whispered in his ear, "She said that she didn't want to deal with someone who was looking pretty beaten up at only three o'clock in the morning. Sir."

"Did she really? Good God." He raised his tone. "Yes, well. Go on… Tabby."

"Thank ye, guv'nor. But he wouldn' take no fer an answer. Well, I am pretty irresistible." Tabby grinned, showing a mouthful of rotting teeth. James recoiled slightly. "So I had to show 'im a thing or two. Physically pain wise."

James turned his gaze to his nephew, who had taken a few subtle steps away from the woman.

"So then 'e says that his uncle's the righ' 'onorable Commodore Norrington, and tha' I'm gonna ge' in a lot of trouble fer this, ye see? So I got te take 'im up on 'is word, and I doan think 'e was expectin' tha', guv'nor." She grinned again, closed the gap between herself and Jamsie rather quickly, and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Plucky lit'le bug'er."

"Uncle? Are you going to get her into trouble?" This last part Jamsie said with a rather large emphasis.

"Somebody's going to 'get into trouble,' for sure…" James pushed back his chair, and stood. "Miss… Tabby, you may go." He slipped his hand into a purse on his desk, and pulled out six gold coins, holding them out. "For your trouble."

She stepped forward eagerly, and took the coins, stuffing them down the front of her dress, than took the Commodore's hand in both of hers and shook it vigorously. "Oh, thank ye guv'nor, thank ye. And anytime yer lookin' fer a good time, ye jes come te me, and I'll give ye half price, there ain' no better deal than tha', guv'nor."

Commodore Norrington withdrew his hand stiffly, and motioned for her to go. "Thank you, but I doubt I'll be taking you up on the offer." He muttered as she swept out.

"Now, Jamsie. Give me the name."

"Name, Uncle?" He was suddenly very shy.

"I know you know exactly what I'm talking about. You rarely stoop so low…"

"Katherine Winston." Jamsie muttered.

"Elizabeth's old handmaid?" James was suddenly furious. "How could you? It was awful enough getting you… no, _buying_ you out of the other 'situations,' but if she talks to Elizabeth, no amount of gold…" he went around the desk and punched the young man firmly in the gut. "You will not be apologizing this time. I will. Hopefully this can still be remedied. Gilette, take him to his room, and do not let him get out."

Katherine slowly woke up from an extremely uncomfortable position. She was lying on her back, in her clothes from yesterday. It was way past her time to help the cook with the preparations for the night ahead. Why had no one awoken her?

Wait. Elizabeth's wedding was tonight. Or rather, the reception that she was invited to. She had asked for the day off in case she decided to go… She sat up, ignoring the slight shooting pain in her neck that came of sleeping on her back, and went to her wardrobe, opening it slightly, and staring at the deep red dress that Elizabeth had sent along with the invitation. 'That may have been my taste back then…' she thought, and decisively slammed the wardrobe door shut with her right arm.

She shivered as she felt the soft cloth of her dress drape over her forearm, and she curiously reached back with her left arm to see why her dress wasn't covering the back of her… oh God. And it all came rushing back.

Katherine sank heavily onto her bed, and lifted her now shaky hand to her forehead. Jamsie… and the other man! Who the hell was the other man that she had LAIN ON TOP OF! She absentmindedly brought a strand of her brown hair over her shoulder and began to run through it with both hands, her fingers untangling knots as she went. She remembered… the man with the strange hair threatening Jamsie with a gun, and Jamsie passing out. She remembered falling to the floor, and (Katherine blushed) the strange haired man sliding underneath her, and taking her hand to his stomach. And then she fell asleep…. Then how in hell did she get here?

In sudden urgency, Katherine took off the remains of the dress and threw it in the corner of the room, then stared at it as if it were a wild animal for a couple of minutes, panting. She sat on the bed in her corset and bloomers and brought her hair over her shoulders to act as a shield.

A vague plan in her mind to call the cook, Katherine stood up and walked toward the door of her room, reached out for the doorknob, and turned. The doorknob wouldn't turn with her hand. Focused now, and with a firmer grip on the knob, Katherine tried to turn it again. For the second time, it wouldn't turn with her. She knelt down to look through the keyhole. No one was on the tavern floor, and there was her flowerpot, right where it should be. No! Her flowerpot should be in the room with her, with the key nestled safely underneath it. If the flowerpot was outside, than the key was outside too, and she was… locked in?!?!

Katherine sat with her back against the door and circled her arms around her knees, feeling as if she were about to cry. How did so much go so wrong in so little time?

About to bang her head against the door, Katherine heard footsteps nearing. She put her eye against the keyhole once more, to see a strange man swaying and nearing her room, kneeling down and preparing to put his own eye against the keyhole. She quickly pulled back, and put her hand against the keyhole.

"Bloody hell?" She heard a scruffy voice say. Something hard encountered her hand, and she moved it away, as the key came through the keyhole.

"Damn." She whispered, and got up at lightning speed, looking about her room for a place to hide – anywhere to hide. She spotted her wardrobe, and slid open the door as quietly as she could, then placed herself between dresses on the closed side, not having time to reshut it before the door of her room opened.

Katherine stood as still as she could, listening as the syncopated footsteps entered her room and the stranger proclaimed "Bugger!", watching as light suddenly filled the shadows of her wardrobe through the open door.

Something thumped lightly on her bed, and then the footsteps started to go toward her door again. Katherine held her breath as they passed her wardrobe, she was so close…

Then the door slid open and a beringed hand covered her mouth.

Katherine followed her instinctive reaction, and bit.

"YEARGH!!"

"Oh dear God. How disgusting!" Katherine ran out of her wardrobe, ignoring the man who was cradling his hand to his chest and looking at her with murderous eyes, and tried hard not to gag. She poured herself some fresh water out of her drinking pitcher, gargled, and spit. "Haven't you ever heard of washing your hands?" She took another sip, gargled again, spit again.

"You little wench! You drew blood! Look at that!" The man held out his hand, which was red, but admittedly, not bleeding. Between sips of water, Katherine informed him of this fact.

"No, it's bleedin'!" He slapped his hand a few times. "What d'you call tha', eh?"

She looked closely at his hand. "Self-pity?"

He brought it close to his eyes, then scowled. "D'you have to be righ' abou' everythin'?" Then walked over to her bowl of fresh water and dipped his filthy hands in it, fluttering them about. "Got a towel?"

"You idiot! I use that for washing my hair!" Katherine looked down into the previously crystal clear water, now brown and muddy, probably with a few choice creatures floating around in it.

"Tha' can still be arranged…" He picked up the bowl of water, and tilted it at her face.

"STOP IT!!" Katherine screamed, and sent him "the look."

Like a boy chastised, the man set down the bowl of water, and hung his head.

"What. Do you. Want!" She said in the same exasperated tones that she had used last night.

A look of utter horror came into the man's face. "You're the demon woman!"

Katherine rolled her eyes, then noticed the beads and the pieces of bone hanging from the man's hair. "You're… you're the man I laid on last night!" She blushed immediately at this particular choice of identification.

The look of horror was replaced by a saucy grin, and the man removed his hat, bowing slightly. "Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, Miss…"

"Katherine. Winston. And don't you require a ship and crew to be a captain, Mr. Sparrow?" She laid heavily into the "Mr."

Jack gritted his teeth. "In the harbor."

"Right." Katherine replied sarcastically.

"Look. I'm jus' here because I need a 'suitable' escort to this damn wedding, and I won' be allowed in unless I have one."

"You. At a wedding."

"Friends o' mine. Very respec'oble people."

"You. At a wedding."

"Do I have to perform a little song and dance, love?"

"You. At a wedding."

"Why is'at so 'ard for you te believe?"

Katherine looked pointedly at the pieces of bone hanging from his hair.

"It's always the bones, ain' it…" Jack mumbled, fingering them lovingly. "'Lizbeth said she'd scrub me up a bit."

"Does 'Lizbeth' translate into 'Elizabeth?'"

"Translate? You insult my scent, my hair, my speech, I dunno why I'm askin' ye to this reception thingy in the firs' place…"

"Reception? For Elizabeth and Will Turner? Elizabeth being the one to 'scrub you up,' I presume…"

"Yeah."

"And just give me one reason as to why I should ever consider going with you, Mr. Jack Sparrow."

"Sure I will. I saved your arse las' nigh', so you can save mine tonigh'. Although yours is considerably…"

Katherine walked up to him and slapped his face, very aware of her predicament in just corset and bloomers, but she supposed it was just force of habit. "MR. Sparrow. Gentlemen NEVER speak to a lady like that. NEVER. I see I have more to clean that your outward appearance before tonight."

"Bu' 'Lizbeth…"

"Miss Elizabeth has more than enough on her mind that cleaning up a Godforsaken, filthy tongued and otherwise human being before tonight. I'll go with you only because of what you did last night, but then, we're quits Mr. Sparrow. Do you understand me?"

Katherine strode toward the door and called for a messenger to go off to the Swann's estate to let Miss Swann know that Miss Winston would be taking care of Mr. Sparrow for the afternoon.

"I knew I would regret the whole 'rescuing' thing…"


	3. Grooming

A/N: This is a fair bit of fluff, but it was calling out for me to write it. And it's nice to have a bit of fun before the serious stuff comes…

**Grooming**

Katherine slipped on an old Chinese dressing gown that she had inherited from one of the prostitutes at the "Faithful Bride," (one that she refused to wear before washing it several times) and instructed Jack to sit at the dressing table that she had placed between her bed and wardrobe.

He did so, feeling very silly, and feeling even sillier when he spotted all the kinds of lady's makeups and creams sitting on the surface of the table.

"I don' know abou' this…" he said, attempting to get up from the backless chair.

Two heavy hands pressed on his shoulders, surprisingly heavy for their small size, and wouldn't let him rise. "Rule one. Ennunciate. I don'T know abouT this."

"You've got te be bloody kiddin' me."

"Rule two. No swearing. And it's 'You've got tO be kiddiNG me.'"

"You weren'T a general in a former life, were you?"

Katherine smiled wryly. "Now, how are these attached?" She asked, gripping the bones with her right fist.

"Jus'…"

"What?"

"JusT a loop of hair through a little hole in the top."

"Good." She gave an almighty yank as Jack yelped and the bones came free. There was a small piece of Jack's hair attached, that he held up in front of his face as she handed the bones to him. "Wha' are you doin' to me?"

"I didn't hear you?" She replied in a singsong voice. Katherine was relishing this, it was very apparent. She was going for his beads now - there was a tiny rubber band at the bottom, surely she wouldn't find it…

"OUCH!" She had. Jack heard a little tinkling noise next to his ear as the beads came off the strand of hair into her hand. She dumped them unceremoniously onto the dressing table.

Katherine untied his bandanna and flourished it, shaking out all the dust and grime. She was RUINING HIM!!!

"Brush."

"Can I at least take out all the brown hairs first?"

"Since you said that with perfect enunciation, yes you MAY."

Damn. Had he really? He grumbled inaudibly a bit, taking an extra long time to pick out nonexistent pieces of her hair out of the brush, then handed it to her grudgingly.

She ATTACKED his hair. There was no other word for it. Jack was left wishing he had combed it in the past decade or so… he just closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and waited till it was over. Well, there's one good thing about all this, he thought, smiling to himself, I'll have more respect for girls and their grooming…Damn. Now I'm THINKING with perfect enunciation. Come on, Jackie boy. D'you. Te. C'mon. Wha' Tha'. Hehe. Inward rebellion. Too bad he was too chicken to do it out loud.

Caught up in his thoughts, Jack didn't notice as Katherine reached over his shoulder for the rubber band again, holding his hair back with her left fist. She accidentally brushed against his cheek with the inside of her upper arm, and then recoiled it quickly.

That was soft. No! Tha' was sof'. No! Don't think in that direction at all!

"Um. Could you, just pass me back the rubber band, please, Mr. Sparrow."

"Yeah, here." Her hands were soft too… Those hands that had ripped out a piece of his hair! Jack made himself think.

Katherine brushed back the sides of Jack's hair, making sure to catch all of the strands, and fastened it carefully at the nape of his neck. "There." She looked into the mirror over his shoulder. "Oh, dear."

"What? What?" Jack said, in growing tones of urgency. He wasn't sure he could handle losing anything else.

"Turn around…" Jack did so, and she reached up and tugged lightly on the three braided strands of his goatee.

"Oh, no. No, no no no no."

"Well, if you need a suitable escort, you're going to look pretty silly being not suitable yourself."

"You do something to yourself first, huh? You see how it feels first before you go all cutting and snipping and who the hell knows what else on me. Savvy?"

Katherine let the swearing pass, her fingers under her chin, apparently thinking. "All right. I'll 'do something to me.' Shove over."

She sat gingerly on the seat in front of the dressing table mirror, then reached for some pins, and the brush. She pointedly took some time to pick out the black hairs, while Jack rolled his eyes, than raised it to her own hair, brushing it back from her face, then proceeding to pin it up in an exceedingly extravagant updo. Both of her hands holding pieces of hair in place, she kicked Jack's shin. "Put a pin just there," she moved one of her fingers up and down.

"What?"

"I helped you, you help me. Reciprocity seems to be the name of the game. Just there." She continued to waggle the finger.

Jack picked up one of the pins in his hands, then moved toward the bundle of hair like a surgeon moving toward a particularly difficult surgery, and hesitated.

"God Jack, it's not difficult, just put the damn pin in."

"What was rule two again?" He grinned. She kicked again. "All right, all right." He placed the pin in her hair, then moved quickly out of the way, as a hand came flying out. In a few minutes, it was complete.

If Jack looked, well, partly like a gentleman, than Katherine looked, at least from the neck up, like a lady. Her curls spilled out from an unknown source like a waterfall, moving with her head as she moved, not staying stiff and unwaving.

"Now…" She held up a pair of scissors.

Jack slumped back in the seat, and Katherine told him to scoot over as she sat down beside him, lifted the pair of scissors, and cut, as it seemed to him, dangerously close to his skin.

She laid the three braids carefully on the dressing table, than handed Jack the scissors. "Trim, now, so it looks like a clean shave," but she didn't say it coldly, there was a tone of sympathy in her voice this time… but she swept into her wardrobe and slid the door shut before Jack could said anything.

As Jack worked on his now short beard, he heard a bunch of strange noises coming from the wardrobe, and hesitated a few times, but didn't bother to go check it out. Apparently, that was the right decision, because Katherine emerged after about ten minutes, encased in a deep crimson dress, the sleeves hanging off her shoulders, the bodice adorned with golden embroidery and just deep enough to show off a lot of neck and just a little bit of breast, the skirt the same deep crimson and just long enough for her.

Jack stood up, more than a little surprised. He opened, than closed his mouth.

"What are you staring at?" She snapped.

Jack thought it was very apparent that he was staring at the same thing he was staring at last night.

"I need you to button the last couple of buttons." Katherine turned around grumpily, crossing her arms, and began to back up. Unfortunately, she rather misjudged the distance, and Jack wasn't really ready to take on the weight of a whole person yet, so he sat down abruptly, and brought her with him, and after a rather awkward tussle, Katherine was sitting on his left leg, his arms wrapped around her waist to prevent her from falling further.

Katherine stiffened, and Jack watched the back of her neck turn the same color as the dress beneath it. He quickly retracted his arms, and reached out for the last few buttons, fastened them, then patted Katherine on the back. "There go." He felt like he was calming a wild horse.

She stood up quickly, and walked woodenly to the wardrobe again, collecting her dressing gown, and put its shoulders around her own, covering her torso.

They both looked toward the door as someone knocked.

"I'll get it," Katherine said, and she opened the door with purpose, tossing her head back before she opened it.

A little boy, no older than twelve, stood there, holding a long something in a paper package. "To Miss Winston from Miss Swann."

"Thank you." Katherine retrieved the package and shut the door again, flicking the note off the top before she laid it on her bed. She opened it quickly and read it with a wry smile.

"What's it say?" Jack inquired.

Katherine read the note aloud, "'My dear Katherine, if anyone can turn our Jack around, it's you. Love, Elizabeth.'"

"What's in the package?" He let the fear he was feeling enter his voice.

She gestured for him to go ahead and open it.

"Oh bugger."

"I'll go back into the wardrobe. It's going to take a lot more room to get dressed in that…"

Jack held up the white things from the package, stretched them out a bit, then let go of them in horror. Tights?

"Just knock when you're done." And with that, the door slid shut. And Jack was horribly, horribly alone. With the tights.


	4. Two Views

A/N: Yes, I am in love with ellipses. (…) How could you tell? And sorry for the "Jack is Cinderella" moment. I tried to write it so it wasn't cheesy. Dunno if I succeeded… but I tried.

**Two Views**

Katherine slid the door to the wardrobe shut, and tossed off the Chinese dressing gown. Her hands immediately went to the top of the bodice, and started pulling up. "Damn… dress…" In the past three years, she had gotten very used to wearing dresses that were at least two or three inches taller at the bosom than this one, but oh, what a difference even two or three inches made. The corset didn't help any, pressing her breasts against her, causing two swellings at the top of the bodice. The fact that this was an evening event didn't really help matters any, either. The later it was, the lower bodice lines could be cut, and the more shoulders would be bare… Elizabeth was just sending her a fashionable dress.

But the dress wasn't cooperating. Leave it to Elizabeth to be ignorant of what everybody else knew – that she was, as Jack said, "the demon woman," the one who was unfeeling, ungiving, a prude, a witch, really, she had heard all the names before. She remembered a time when she would've gladly worn this dress, and tugged it a bit lower, too, for that matter… and that was what Elizabeth knew. She sighed, and resigned herself to an evening with a revealing dress, and a man who would be staring all night. Good Lord. She furiously rubbed her right arm with her left palm. That was a feeling she hadn't felt in a while… She leaned against the back of the wardrobe and brought her hand up to a section of her hair, twirling it around in her fingers unknowingly, then realized what she was doing and tightly clasped her fingers in front of her. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be wearing a tight bun tonight…

Katherine abruptly stood up straight as three knocks seemed to shake the tiny wardrobe. "I'm finished."

"You sure? Tights and all?" She called.

"Tights," Jack coughed, "and all."

Katherine draped the dressing gown over her shoulders once more and slowly slid the wardrobe door open.

And there he was. Standing very nervously, he put his hand on the bedpost, then on his hip, then just settled for it being straight down. He looked, well, like a gentlemen. He had wiped off his makeup, taken off all of his jewelry, put on every bit of the suit correctly, and had managed to keep his hair intact during the process.

Suppressing the gasp she could feel coming on, Katherine slowly nodded her head in approval. "Very good, Mr. Sparrow. Now, just remember rules one and two and I think we'll have a fine evening. What time do we head out, anyway?"

He outrageously took a timepiece attached to a chain out of a small pocket in his waistcoat, flipped it open, and said, "Seven o'clock, Miss Winston."

Katherine couldn't suppress the laugh that came rumbling out of her gut. "Thank you, Mr Sparrow. And what time is it now?"

Jack quickly came out of his gentleman's stance. "Bloody hell, these numbers are tiny…"

"Come here, let me see." She shook her head and reached out for the timepiece. "Half after six. We should get going soon, if we're going on foot." She reluctantly pulled off the dressing gown and reached over to her closet and snapped out the accompanying shawl Elizabeth had sent her, crimson shot through with gold, and draped it over her lower arms, then held out her right arm to be taken.

Jack stared at her outstretched arm for a moment before it clicked, but just as he was extending his own arm, there were a few knocks at the door.

They looked at it in shock.

"Get… behind… the door…" Katherine hissed.

"What?"

"Get. Behind. The door." She said, slightly louder, her head and arms gesturing.

"Oh!" And he did so, very quickly, as Katherine smoothed her dress and made her own way daintily enough.

She opened it slightly, then wider, trying hard not to squish Jack.

"Miss Winston?"

"Hullo. Commodore…?" Katherine spoke in a slightly confused voice.

Commodore? Jack peered through the crack between the door and the doorframe, seeing James Norrington's sharp profile and white combed wig, sharp Naval uniform, and creamy white tights, his hat cradled in his hands. He cursed silently, and pulled at the back of Katherine's dress, trying to communicate the scumminess of the man that stood before her. She swatted his hand without changing her expression and continued.

"To what may I owe this pleasure, sir?"

"Ah, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Winston."

Scum. Scum. Scummy scum scum. He reached out to pull her dress again but her hand was waiting, and caught his wrist in a tight grip.

Next move, Jack, and I have no problem whatsoever squishing you into oblivion between the door and the wall, Katherine thought to herself, still smiling sweetly at the Commodore.

"I just came by because I heard that there were some… unpleasantries, that came to pass. To you, um. Last night."

Is he referring to what I think he's referring to?

"Fortunately… sir. They were… taken care of. Before they… got out of hand." She looked into his eyes to see if they were talking about the same thing.

Apparently they were, as the Commodore suddenly relaxed. "Oh. I mean… oh! I'm so very glad to hear that, Miss Winston. Be assured, you shall never have that kind of trouble again, from that particular, source." He coughed. "I see you're dressed up, may I assume it's for the reception tonight of the newly wedded Turner's? May I be so bold as to ask you, I mean to say, may I escort you?"

Katherine felt herself turning warm, as Jack's hand began to flap about uselessly in her grip. "Thank you, sir. But I am already attending with someone, I am expecting him to arrive any minute."

"May I inquire as to who is escorting you? Must keep our young ladies safe at home, you know." He said, his pride clearly wounded if a woman such as Katherine was coupled and he wasn't. Katherine grinned to herself.

Jack's hand began to flap more wildly.

Bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger, Jack's thoughts were on one track. If Katherine said his name, and the Commodore heard his name, than he would wait around for the person who belonged to his name to come. And he wouldn't come, because he was already inside the room. Well, it made sense to Jack, anyway. His hand was too much for Katherine, and it swatted against something hard. Oh bugger. If Katherine didn't know any better, she would think…

He just spanked me! Katherine thought to herself, trying to keep a straight face. He just… spanked me! Her brain boiled with anger. Mr. Sparrow, I won't give you the satisfaction of giving this fine gentleman your name, because when I'm done with you, there won't be much left for him to deal out justice to! And who deals out justice for turning someone into a cleaner, more respectable man anyway?

"His name is Mr. Sparley, Commodore. Mr. John Sparley."

The hand suddenly stopped flapping.

Oh, thank God, Jack thought. I knew she'd be a reasonable girl.

You'd better start to pray to whatever sort of heathen god you believe in, Katherine thought, because as soon as this door shuts…

"Ah. Good then. Well, have a good evening, Miss Winston. Please keep in mind to save at least one dance for me…"

Like hell she will…

Like hell I will…

"Yes, thank you Commodore. Good evening." Her smile strained as she shut the door.

They both pressed their ears to the door, and waited for the footsteps to retreat.

"Mr. Sparley?" Jack said, grinning.

"MR. SPARROW!" Katherine shrieked.

Uh-oh. Something didn't go as planned… Jack darted away from the door and lifted up the dressing table's seat, the legs facing Katherine.

"If you think! That you can get away! With slapping me like that! Than you are sorely mistaken!" For someone in a fancy dress, Katherine moved rather quickly, Jack noted.

Damn dress! It's holding me back!

"But I didn't mean to! I was just tryin'! To tell ya! Not te tell 'im! My name!" In the moment of great stress, Jack slipped back into his original speech.

He's just trying to enrage me more by going back to that idiotic way of speaking! Speaking like a pirate! A... pirate… Oh my God.

Suddenly deflated, Katherine sank on the bed. Jack lowered the seat tentatively and watched her movements.

"The hair, the smell, the speech. The rum. You're, you're a pirate, aren't you?" She said, in a defeated tone of voice, looking up toward him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes hurt.

Jack sat beside her gingerly, took off his jacket, and rolled up a sleeve of his "gentleman's" shirt to show her the pirate "P" branded on his forearm. She roughly grabbed his wrist and pulled the arm toward her, then traced the "P" with her right forefinger, nodding slowly.

She suddenly let the arm drop and cradled her right hand to her chest, her face turned away.

Jack was at a loss of what to do.

"Erm. So that's why I didn't want you do tell the Commodore my name."

Katherine nodded.

"And that's why I accidentally slapped you."

She nodded again, then sniffed greatly. "Do you have a handkerchief?"

Jack paused awkwardly.

"Don't tell me you don't have a handkerchief somewhere on that great big outfit of yours."

He rustled in his jacket pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a couple of yards of pure white fabric.

"No, that's your… Oh damn it all. Never mind." She blew her nose heavily on the thing-that-wasn't-his-handkerchief, then set it on her pillow. Jack was rather glad; he didn't want to handle that thing now.

"Okay, let's go."

"But I thought…"

"Much as I would love to discuss it," Katherine sniffed again, "my feelings and debt to Elizabeth is greater than anything I feel for you, positive or negative. Let's go." She stood, smoothed her dress, and draped her shawl again.

"Right. Same with me." He stood, and straightened, and took her arm.

It isn't true, thought Jack.

It isn't true, thought Katherine.


	5. Reception Thingy

A/N: My favorite line in this is the one about Jack and Singapore… oh, the possibilities are endless. : I know that there's a lot of verbal sparring in here between Katherine and Jack. I do have a plot, an actual story in mind, I do, I swear I do. But if I can fit in some fun wordplay along the way, well then, so much the better, right? RIGHT?

**Reception Thingy. **

Captain Jack Sparrow was stumbling more than usual.

"When males begin to wear high heeled shoes with little bows on them, I begin to fear for civilization," he muttered under his breath, as he took a particularly fierce dive, gripping onto Katherine's arm. Katherine almost toppled under his weight, but stopped and leaned against a shop's wall, as Jack did the same, bringing his leg up and rubbing his ankle, taking the opportunity to itch his leg from the infuriating tights at the same time.

"Get a hold of yourself," Katherine hissed at him. "It's a good thing the walk is long, so you can get used to those things." She nodded at his high-heeled shoes, then grinned. "I get to cheat." She lifted up the hem of her gown ever so slightly, showing crimson shoes with a tiny heel. "The things men do for fashion. What is that, a good, five, six centimeters?" She took off down the road again.

Jack failed to come up with a good retort, and was left to mumble, "What is that, a good five, six centimeters?" in the highest register of his voice, before he began to walk on the painfully high… no.. chunky shoes. High heels were what a woman wore, he decided. Chunky shoes were what a man wore. He subtly stooped and tried to tear the bows off; he only succeeded in untying them. Jack looked up and saw how far off Katherine was getting, and set off at an awkward walk/run pace that he instantly regretted.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow."

"Try wearing a corset, Jack. Then see if you prefer the shoes or not."

Jack opened his mouth, about to mention some adventures he had had in Singapore, than thought better of it, and changed his words to…

"Are we there yet?"

"No, Mr. _SPARLEY_, we aren't."

"Oh. How much further have we got?"

"That depends on how fast you can walk."

"Fast…?"

"Your confidence inspires me. All right, then 'fast' we shall go." Katherine hiked up her dress a bit and began to move her legs into longer strides, as Jack called out, "Not fair! Not fair!" He began to sort of run anyway, ignoring the pain in his feet, catching her up quickly enough and moving past her crimson form, laughing giddily as he turned around backwards to wave. "See you there!"

"Yes indeed…" Katherine grinned again.

They met at a bench that was just a few paces away from the Swann's gate, where the household began on top of the large hill that adorned Port Royal, where Jack sat, trying his best to look casual, but panting heavily. He had crossed his legs and stretched out one arm across the bench's back, waiting for Katherine. She sat beside him, and he had the sense not to drape his arm across her bare shoulders, but she was still close enough to hear him breathing. In fact, she put her hand, palm down, against his stomach, saying softly, "In. Out. In. Out. In. Out."

Jack turned his head carefully and stared at her. Katherine was looking straight ahead. "Thank you," she said, giving equal amounts of emphasis to each syllable. He didn't say anything in return, just covered her hand with his own, and they sat there for a couple of moments, just his hand on hers, feeling Jack breathe.

Will stared at the door. "Are you sure he's coming… appropriately?"

"Will, you're worrying about it now even more than I was, before! And I admit, I was worrying about it _a lot_ before," Elizabeth put her hand comfortingly on Will's chest, surprised by the sparkle on her ring finger. She suddenly put her head on his shoulder.

"What is it?" Will put a finger under Elizabeth's chin, tilting her head toward his.

She grinned. "We're finally married!" She took Will's hand in hers and twirled him under her arm, then let him twirl her, as they ended up back in each other's arms, embraced with one another's head on the other's shoulder.

"And you are sure this 'Katherine' person can handle him?" Will said after a slight pause.

"Will. Stop worrying about them. And start focusing on us…" The orchestra began to tune themselves, and Elizabeth and Will walked to the door, preparing to greet their guests for the reception after their small wedding.

Katherine gracefully draped her arm on Jack's proffered one, and they joined the queue of waiting couples in line to greet the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Turner.

A rather old man with a large staff was taking the names of guests at the door of the mansion and announcing them to the general room. The couple before them stopped, and the balding man gave the butler the pair's names.

The staff hit the floor twice, as the butler announced, "Mr and Mrs. Ronald Kensingtion."

"So that's Mrs. Kensington…" Jack whispered, and looked at the woman as if he was inspecting her. The butler coughed, and Katherine prodded him in the side.

"Mr. Ja-John Sparley and Miss Katherine Winston, if you please."

The staff hit the floor again, "Mr. John Sparley and Miss Katherine Winston." The butler droned.

"Oh dear God in Heaven," Jack's eyes grew as wide as saucers as they entered the palatial room, a large staircase glittering in front of them and two rooms filled with well-dressed people off to both sides. "Yes, beginning to see why Will married Elizabeth…"

"Katherine!" A loud and cheerful voice rang from somewhere off to the left.

"Mi," Katherine stopped herself midword. "Elizabeth. You look gorgeous."

The two women grasped each other by the upper arms gingerly, and air-kissed each other's cheeks, while Will approached Jack suspiciously.

"Do I… know you?"

Jack wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

"I think not, kind sir," he said, putting on his most outrageous formal accent to date. "I am John Sparley, but a humble servant of the merchant ship, _The Eunuch_, where we pride ourselves on our lovely singing voices. Perhaps you've heard of it?" Jack bowed, than said quietly, "Snip-snip."

Will put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and said, rather disbelievingly, "Jack?"

"At your service, mate. The name's John Sparley for this particular trip, though, if you don't mind."

"The last time I saw you, you were sprawled on a table at the 'Faithful Bride,' spread-eagle from a blow from a rather strict and demonic barmaid."

Katherine coughed into the back of her hand politely.

"Said barmaid over there, oh whelp who should learn to think before he speaks."

Will whirled around, first looking at Elizabeth, whose fingers were at her lips, trying to suppress her laughter, then at Katherine, who was trying not to smile herself. She stepped forward first, to put the fellow out of his misery. After all, it was his wedding night.

"Katherine Winston, and you must be Mr. Turner. So nice to meet formally. Elizabeth? It was a great pleasure to see you again. Now, I'm going to take this one off to the dance floor before he puts anyone else into an embarrassing situation. Good evening…."

She curtseyed quickly, then went at Jack, putting her right hand on his shoulder and grabbing the other with her left, and began to waltz in time with the music toward the room with the orchestra, leaving Jack no choice but to start waltzing with her or he would stick out like a sore thumb. And with the presence of Royal Navymen in the room, she was sure that was the one thing he didn't want.

Sure enough, Jack's free hand went to her waist after the first couple of rotations, and he led them to the right hand room, the one with the orchestra.

Will gaped after the pair, and Elizabeth planted a quick kiss on his cheek, "Do you have any more questions as to whether or not Katherine can, how did you put it… 'handle Jack?'" She giggled, and Will shook his head.

"She had a good idea though," Will said.

"Oh really? And what was that?"

Will placed his arm around Elizabeth's waist and held up her left hand. "C'mon."

The married couple waltzed their way over to the dancing room, Elizabeth's skirt twirling around beautifully, and Will's newly completed dance lessons not failing him.

"You wouldn't have done that for me." Jack said.

"What?" Katherine replied, releasing Jack's hand as the orchestra played the waltz's final strains and she applauded.

"Stepping forward out of an awkward silence. You know, if I was ever at a loss for words." They made their way to the edge of the room as a quicker tune started

"And when would you ever be at a loss for words?"

"If someone greeted me, came at me in surprise like that."

"Oh please, you didn't seem to be tongue-tied when I bit your hand. Or when Norrington came to the door."

"I didn't say a word!"

"There are other types of communication than verbal." She paused. "How did you know I was in the bloody closet anyway?"

"The door was open. The light was on. There were loads of shadows playing against the wardrobe's back. Including one of a feminine profile."

"Oh."

"Just gotta use your resources."

"Can you see any shadows… playing against the wardrobe's back… if both doors are closed?"

"Nah. Not unless you were looking directly through the crack where the two doors meet." He suddenly saw where she was going with this conversation. "Which I wasn't! The tights were giving me a hard enough time as it was!" He opened his mouth to say more, but Katherine but her fingers up to his lips, and his head jutted back at the sudden touch.

"Jack. You sure you're a pirate?" She said, almost wistfully.

"Quite sure," his answer was muffled by her fingers. Ah, now I get her meaning about personal hygiene. These smell rather nicer than mine must've, he thought.

She withdrew her hand, and sighed. "Right. Well, lovely coming here for Elizabeth and Will and then seeing them for two seconds…" And that was a change of subject.

"Shall I get us drinks?" Jack said, a little more eagerly than he would have if he had not just had his hair yanked and pulled, his beard chopped off, than his brain sent into total confusion by what was, twenty-four hours ago, only the demonic barmaid.

"Yes, thank you," the trained, automatic response to the question came.

"Good then." So Jack set off in search of the one thing that he knew would always set him right. Alcohol. He grabbed two or three of the tiny wine glasses in each hand, then turned back toward Katherine to see her sitting down on one of the little pouf chairs that lined the dance floor, looking utterly like a wallflower, and just yards away, approaching fast, Commodore James Norrington.

"Oh bugger," he whispered, startling an elderly lady who had come in search of some punch. She raised up with all her tiny stature and began to chastise him. "Young man! Young man! Pray, do not use such language in the presence of gentle company!" She then rapped him firmly on the wrist with her forefinger and middle finger together, and took off in the opposite direction without her glass of punch, which the waiter now had ready. Was that supposed to hurt? Hurt his soul, maybe?"Eh, give me another of those, would you?" Jack carefully set down the six glasses of wine he had amassed, impatiently waiting for the non alcoholic drink.

Non alcoholic drink.

Oh bugger, he thought, careful not to say it aloud.

The waiter produced the second punch, and Jack practically ran back to Katherine's side, presenting her with the punch, and said, "Sorry I took so long, lo-Ka-Miss Winston," he finally settled on. "The queue was hideously long."

"That's quite all right, Mr. Sparley. You're just in time to meet an acquaintance of mine. Commodore Norrington? This is my good friend, Mr. Sparley, who was kind enough to escort me here tonight. Mr. Sparlay? Commodore Norrington. The Commodore was just remarking upon the fact that you never seem to be here at the same time he is." Katherine smiled sweetly.

Jack was quite good as this translation stuff as well. The Commodore was just saying how he doubted that her escort existed at all, that she had just made him up to avoid going with the Commodore. He had to admit, it was partly true, and that this veiled speech stuff was pretty good, but everyone could play at that game.

"Really? How interesting. Commodore, please be assured that I intend to, for as long as it is humanly possible, be here at the same time you are." Jack stretched out his arm to shake the Commodore's. Not bad, not bad at all. Could work on the subtlety a bit, but really. Not bad for his first time out.


	6. Busted

Commodore James Norrington was getting annoyed. He was used to standing around at a gala like this, after all, military men in the lower ranks often lined the walls and covered the nooks and crannies to make sure that events like this were made more formal, and make sure that nothing got out of hand. But he wasn't used to standing around for lack of a partner. He was a man of rank, someone people respected and revered, and here he was, standing at a party because the only woman he was interested in dancing with was partnered with someone else.

Someone who, as the night passed, was looking more and more familiar.

His suit was impeccable. It couldn't be the way he was dressed. Something was off in the way the Mr. Sparley walked. He spoke with a slight accent; James couldn't place it. And there was something glinting off those teeth. Surely that wasn't proper. Yet Miss Winston seemed happy enough, and he knew her to be a strict follower of the religion of propriety and social norm.

James Norrington shifted his feet uncomfortably. He'd been standing here, straight and tall for the past five dances, his eyes shifting between the girl in red and the girl in white. He sighed. Elizabeth. His heart no longer pumped out of his chest every time he saw her figure sway past, every time he heard her lilting voice speak. His fist no longer curled tightly whenever he thought of her in that blacksmith's… that ruffian's… arms.

A man of thirty-five, and of great position, Norringtion was lacking in one area of his life. He needed a wife at his side, to give birth to heirs, to bring to public events, to make a home out of his bachelor's life. He thought Elizabeth would have been glad to fill the position, but… James sighed again. Port Royal was vastly outnumbered by men many more charming and beguiling than himself. And now it seemed an opportunity had presented itself. After all, he had never heard a false word against Miss Katherine Winston. Although she _was _a barmaid, but everything he had heard about her character contradicted that occupation. Very well. His mind seemed to be made up for him. After all, he was running out of time. And at the age of twenty eight, so, he thought, was Katherine. She would be hard pressed to find another offer of such benefit to herself.

Commodore James Norrington decided it was time to remind Miss Winston of her promise of the one dance.

ooooooooooooo

"Just keep dancing. He's been looking at you all night."

"Ah, love, you sure? I could've sworn he's been looking at _you_."

"Don't be disgusting."

'

Jack grinned widely, revealing all his golden teeth.

Katherine looked at him in horror.

"What, 'ave I got somethin' on my face?" He began to turn display his face at all angles, worried about a smudge. As the night passed, rules one and two had slowly disintegrated.

"Y-y-yes. Something very… gold."

Jack pressed his lips together and mumbled out of the side of his mouth, "Bugger."

"Well, I couldn't have pulled all your teeth, now could I? We never should have come. We never should have come." In the middle of the slow waltz, Katherine buried her head on Jack's chest.

Well, this was a new development. Jack felt distinctly… warm. Then… wet. She was crying through his jacket. "Buck up, love, really. I'll jus' pretend I'm Mr. Kensington. He doesn't seem to be havin' a grand time at all, really. Here, I'll frown. No more smilin'. Really." He pulled his lips down into a terrible caricature of a frown, and Katherine looked up, sniffled, and then smiled in spite of herself. She wiped her eyes just as the music ended, and looked around the room to see if anyone had spotted their slip.

Someone had.

Someone in a brushed white wig and a Navy uniform with gold braid, creamy white tights, and a dusted hat atop his head.

"Jack Sparrow…" James Norrington hissed.

Keeping his lips pressed together, Jack murmured, "Captain. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, if you please. Good to see you again, Norry."

"Commodore James Norrington to you, Sparrow, you scum."

"Funny, I was just sayin' the same thin' abou' ye earlier."

"I should run my sword through you right now. You know that?"

Jack put his face up in Norrington's. "Then why don' ye?"

"Because I would hate to disturb this fine party. And it's against the law. You're due for the gallows, and I intend to see you finally make it there."

"Ah. The conscience arrives."

"And I would hate to do such a thing in front of this fine woman here."

Katherine wondered when she would come into it. She stood still as both men looked at her, the pirate and the Commodore. The musicians were finally understanding that something odd was going on, and they stopped playing one by one, as the guests began to stare at the commotion. Will and Elizabeth wandered into the room, and made there way through the crowd, stopping when they saw the two men squaring off in front of Katherine.

Katherine looked into each man's eyes – the blue grey of the Commodore's, and the chocolate brown of Jack's. Twenty four hours ago, her choice would have been easy. But why was Norrington paying her such attention? Unless he thought he owed her for what his nephew did to her… well, he didn't. She owed Jack for that. She owed Jack. Owed. Jack. Her mind was made up. She blinked quickly, shook her brown hair back, and said, quite loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Jack, it looks like the game's up. We're caught."

"Wha' in the…"

"Don't try to pretend, Jack. It just won't do any good. I confess. I confess everything. Captain Sparrow and I attended this party with the intention to steal whatever we could." She started to produce tears. She wasn't sure where they were coming from, they were just… coming. She turned to Jack, and took his hands."I'm sorry Jack. I thought I could hide it."

Jack just opened his mouth, then shut it again. Opened, then shut, like a goldfish.

Norrington interrupted, "Katherine, if you think you can just lie and get Sparrow out of this situation, you're terribly mistaken. I'm sure that I can forgive you. Sparrow has incredible powers of persuasion and…"

"I swear I'm not lying. What can I do to prove it?" Katherine was searching her mind. Oh God. Disgusting. Would it work? "Jack and I… are lovers."

A collective gasp was heard around the room. Including one from Jack.

"Jack, it's all right. We can tell them now."

Norrington sputtered. "But… but… you were courting Jamie till last night."

Katherine fluttered her eyelashes. "Exactly. Who do you think saved me from him?"

Jack suddenly kicked into gear. "After all Norry, it was ye who said I have 'incredible powers of persuasion,' wasn' it?" He swooped Katherine up in his arms and kissed her.

Katherine's immediate reaction would have been to slap. In fact, her hand instinctively rose to Jack's cheek, but her mind reminded her the pretense she was under, and she settled it lightly there instead, forcing herself to act like she enjoyed this. Once we're out of here, Jack Sparrow… she thought, your over-enthusiasm is being duly noted.

Jack, certainly, had no such trouble. Why is this damn woman soft everywhere?!

When they parted, Jack took advantage of the shock everyone was in and put Katherine over his shoulder. "C'mon, now that you've 'outed' us, we're getting outta here!" He waved merrily at Will and Elizabeth as they exited the Swann mansion and ran down the hill.

Suddenly, Norrington popped into action. "Well, don't just stand there, go after them!" His brain was nagging at him like a sore tooth. Katherine was playing along. She must have been under some death threat. It had to have been fake. Right?

Lieutenant Gillette stood beside him. "Sir, the men have already gone. What are we to do?"

"Head for the docks. Ten to one _The Black Pearl _is berthed there." But what if it had been real?

ooooooooooooo

Katherine picked her head up from Jack's back with some energy, bouncing along the path. "Where (bounce) are (bounce) we (bounce) going?"

"Ter the _Pearl_, luv. But first we're going to yer lovely abode, because I can' go withou' my effects."

"Yes, good idea. Stay in town as long as possible."

"Righ' then. Let' head directly te a ship full o' pirates, thieves an' scallywags, in tha' beautiful red dress o' yours. I'm quite sure they'd have a lot o' fun with it."

There was silence from behind him. Then, "Fine. But we're not spending the time to change. The Royal Navy tends to move faster than a drunken pirate."

ooooooooooooooo

Mr. Gibbs blearily opened his eyes from his post on the deck of the _Pearl._ A bottle fell from his grip as he straightened from the straight-backed chair he had brought to sit in, and an amber liquid began to ooze out from where the neck fell.

"God's blood! Me rum! Me rum!" He cried as he tried to right the bottle, but it rolled out of his reach and he fell off the chair trying to follow it. As his side hit the deck, his eyes hit the horizon of Port Royal.

His hands went to his mutton chop whiskers, running through them, then went to his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them.

"Mary, Mother of God!" he whispered. Ten Navy men were running, at full speed, toward _The Black Pearl._ He shifted his gaze a bit to the left, and spotted two other figures, one that was very familiar to him.

Gibbs ran down the gangplank of the _Pearl_, heading toward the swaying run that he knew could belong to only one person alive: his captain, Jack Sparrow.


	7. All Gone, All Lost

Jack was running at full speed, Katherine making her way behind him, her red dress billowing behind her. Strapped to her back was a pack of their clothes, crossed over her chest, making her breasts pop out even more. Jack had made her carry it, he said he suit was too heavy already. Ahead of her she saw a great black ship looming in the harbor, its black sails waving slowly in the breeze. It bore no colors, but she was sure that if it were, it would be the flag of the Jolly Roger, a skull and cross bones set upon a black setting. She groaned a bit as she recognized this in her mind, but kept running. After her performance in the Swann's mansion, this was the only way she could be running.

Close to the ship now, Katherine spotted a rather portly man with a grizzled face running toward them. She grabbed Jack by the shoulder, panting, and pointed out the man, who seemed to be coming from the opposite direction.

"Gibbs! Oh, thank God. I figgered he'd fallen asleep on night duty agin…." Jack reached his hand up to his trim beard and stroked it. "Damn! Hide me!"

"What?!"

"Hide me! I'm not abou' to have one of me one crew see me all dolled up like some kind of… kind of…"

"…Gentleman?"

"Too bloody right you are!"

Katherine stopped mid-stride and rolled her eyes. "What exactly am I going to do, Jack? Stuff you down my dress? It's quite crowded enough already." She immediately blushed. "I mean… if you'd only… there's… no place…"

Jack smirked. "I heard what you said the firs' time, love." He peered at the front of her dress while she crossed her arms. "I'll jus' go in tha' buildin' over there, you tell him te go ahead to the _Pearl, _we'll catch him up." He darted over to the abandoned building over to their right, leaving Katherine in the middle of the road with a fast approaching pirate coming. She took of the pouch and slung it over her shoulders, wrapping her shawl across her upper torso. Bloody… pirates… she thought to herself as the older man slowed down.

"Where be Jack?" He asked, panting and huffing.

"I'm over here, mate!" Jack's voice called from a hole in the building. "You can trust the wench!" He added. Oops. That might not have been the best word in the world to use for this particular person… He slapped himself in the forehead.

"Indeed." Katherine said in a dangerously low tone of voice. "Jack says to go on ahead, we'll come after." She raised her voice to a stage whisper, "He's dressed in a gentlemen's suit and doesn't want anyone to see him." It was quite loud enough for Jack to hear from the building.

"Bugger," he muttered to himself. Yup. The wrong word to use.

Mr. Gibbs looked at Katherine disbelievingly for a couple of seconds, then burst out in a full laugh, his entire body shaking. "Jack… Sparrow… dressed… like… a… bloody…" he collapsed into tears and laughter. "This I gotta see."

"No! No! As yer captain, I order ye te go back te _The Black Pearl_. Ye hear me, Gibbs? No rum for a week otherwise, I'm tellin' ye!

Mr. Gibbs crumpled for a minute, then whispered at Katherine, "He really must be embarrassed, eh?"

"Red as a beet," Katherine whispered back, as Gibbs turned around and ran back down off the path.

"Gibbs!" The cry came again from the building. "Prepare to set sail, anchors away and all that, savvy?"

"Aye, Captain!" Mr. Gibbs yelled over his shoulder, almost out of sight now.

Set… sail? Katherine's brain whirled around. It was true then. She really was leaving. It had seemed a sort of a dream till now, a bit of fun, some play-acting. But this was real. She couldn't go back. Not after that performance at the reception. Her reputation was shattered; no one would ever look at her the same way again. Any chance of a suitable match was gone. She could kiss her job at the "Faithful Bride" goodbye, her dreams of ever being free from small time work were forever done with. That was it. And all because of one… stupid… pirate.

Katherine let out a little scream as Jack sauntered back onto the path, and gestured toward the looming ship. "Shall we?" He said, charmingly, and offered his arm out to Katherine. She ignored it, and began to walk at a very fast past toward what she now knew would be her new home for a while. A pirate ship. A _pirate _ship.

"Wha' did I do?" Jack muttered softly to himself as he set off after Katherine. He tugged at the rubber band that held his hair neatly at the nape of his neck, and succeeded in pulling it out. Sticking his hands into it, he started to comb through his hair, backwards, forwards, sideways, anything to make it look like it was before. But his beads, bones and bandanna were in the sack Katherine carried; he'd have to get her to put everything back in. It wouldn't be so hard, he thought. After all, she'd trusted him enough to put her fingers to his lips not so long ago. She'd put her head on his chest, after all. She'd let him kiss her.

Suddenly, Jack felt very uncomfortable, watching that red dress walk up the gang plank of his ship. His eyes watched the hemline of Katherine's skirt as she hiked it up a bit to avoid the grime on the surface of the plank. Oh dear. This was not good. Not good at all.

Jack was coming up behind her as those low heeled shoes, so used to well kept cobblestone streets and floors, tripped on a rough spot on the wood of the gangplank, and he ran up, catching her hands before she fell at that last step onto the deck of the _Pearl_. As Katherine's face rose up to meet his, he was surprised to see a hardness in her eyes, and that her mouth was set at a grim line.

And then he heard the laughter. It was clear that Gibbs was trying to keep it all in, but it was also clear that he was chuckling. Quite loudly. Jack wasn't sure what at, his suit, or his obvious effort in making sure Katherine didn't hit the floor, but Jack suddenly straightened and gave Gibbs a smirk, then waggled his eyebrows. Gibbs stopped laughing.

"And here ye are, Miss Winston. Welcome aboard _The Black Pearl._ I hope ye have a pleasant stay."

"As long as wherever I'm staying is far away from you, I'm sure I'll be quite fine."

"Wai' a minute, Miss Winston, why the sudden change of climate? It was very pleasantly warm at the party… and now…" Jack shivered.

"Jack Sparrow…" She didn't stop as Jack muttered, "Captain. CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow." "Did you ever think that I might not _want _to leave my entire life as I know it behind me and spend the rest of it, as far as I know, on a bloody pirate ship, next to the very person who caused it all? Did you ever think that _perhaps, _I might have a different goal in life than pursuing treasure and not cleaning and only thinking of myself? Did you ever THINK that I might LIKE MY LIFE????"

Jack put his tongue down in his gums for a moment, as if he was thinking. "No. Not really."

Katherine's face turned bright red. This was beyond "the look." This was past "demonic barmaid." This was… was… she brought the saliva to the back of her throat and spat in Jack's face.

Jack brought a finger up and wiped off the slime. "Tha' was… interestin'. The Kraken's was worse, though."

Katherine tried to bring her body language back down to a calmer position, brought her face very close to Jack's, and said softly, "Does nothing move you?"

"No. Not really." He repeated.

Katherine nodded. "You're right. I wouldn't come forward and speak for you if you were at a loss for words." Then she turned around and leaned on the railing, breathing in, for the last time, everything that was Port Royal.

Jack turned around too, about to say something, but his eyes met the horrifying sight, to him, that was the Navy guards, rushing toward the ship. He spotted an especially kitted up one that looked very familiar. Ah… good old Norry, come to rescue the damsel in distress from the big bad dragon. Too bad this dragon knows how to swim.

"Gibbs, we headed off?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Wonderful." He knew he was going to regret this, but what could he say? He couldn't resist.

Jack inched his way up to the railing, right up next to Katherine. Very close to her, as a matter of fact. He could breathe in her scent, which smelled very nice. Katherine was, of course, aware of his presence, but she didn't move, didn't speak, didn't breathe, it seemed. Perfect. Jack maneuvered his hand around her waist, just above her dress, being very careful not to touch her until the opportune moment.

He kept his eyes on the moving company of soldiers, especially on the one at their head. The one in the white wig. He smiled to himself as Norry came within visual range of the _Pearl's_ deck.

Jack could see old Norry's face, now. His hand down at his side, signaling to his men to hold their fire. And now…

Jack's hovering arm landed, causing Katherine to yelp in alarm, then pulled her into an embrace. Her arms sort of flailed about, but she was facing the _Pearl_ so the Naval company couldn't see the outraged expression on her face, only the smirk on Jack's. He glanced up at Norry, smiled, and waved.

The wave was what did him in. He knew he shouldn't have been so competitive. Especially with this particular girl. He really should have used that arm to help control Katherine. But… he was just too cocky. And when Jack raised his left arm to salute Norrington, Katherine got one of her arms free. And then the other.

And Jack soon experienced, once again, the strength that was hidden in those deceivingly small arms.

He felt himself being pushed away, very roughly.

"You BASTARD! You complete and utter BASTARD! I may have to stay on this ship but I sure as HELL am not going to take any treatment such as that!" Katherine reached into the recesses of her lungs and found that she still had some volume that she hadn't yet reached at her barmaid's job.

Jack felt his ears ringing, but soon found that another part of his body was crying out with even more pain.

Katherine had taken advantage of his shock, and kneed him.

It seemed Jack had found one part of her body that wasn't so soft, after all.


	8. Throwing Things

A/N: A bit shorter than my regular chappies, I know. But it was calling out to be written, and I think this was the perfect place to stop it. :D

Katherine Winston was in a bit of a predicament. She knew she had to stay on this ship, of only because it was now hundreds of meters away from the nearest land mass. Brilliant decision, Katherine, she thought to herself. Quite one of your best. She glanced at the man who was now crumpled on the deck of _The Black Pearl_, holding his middle and moaning without restraint. She resisted the urge to walk back up to him again and grind her heel into his lower back.

"Bloody… hell…damn… woman…" Finally, some distinguishable words came through the lips of the traumatized captain. Jack slowly lifted his head, his arms still cradling his lower abdomen, and brought his eyes up to meet Katherine's face. He tried to say something else, but Katherine shifted her weight and popped her hip, causing her knee to slightly come out. The action, even from that far away, made Jack curl up and protect himself. She laughed, then walked over to Mr. Gibbs.

"I presume there's a place for me to stay while I'm stuck here?" She said icily.

Gibbs stared at her, dumbfounded. He'd never seen anyone, let alone a woman, let alone a woman dressed in such fine attire treat his captain with such disdain. "Um… er… yeah… there's… um…" he stuttered. If she could do such a thing to Jack, who knew what this woman could do to anyone else!

Katherine rolled her eyes. She was used to this, in fact, this made her feel rather at home, as if she was back in the "Faithful Bride." "Where does everyone sleep?"

"The crew sleeps all together in the galley. Ma'am." Gibbs couldn't help but add.

"Well, that won't do. Are there any _private_ sleeping quarters aboard this boat?"

"Ship," came a squeak from near the gangplank. Then, "Ship, not boat," more confidently. Jack had finally found the strength to stand. He edged around Katherine, so he was speaking of Mr. Gibbs' shoulder. "And the only 'private' sleepin' quarters are mine. So, I'm very sorry bu'…"

"… yes, I'm very sorry but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to vacate them for the time being." Katherine continued. "So I'll take the keys now then, shall I?" She stretched an arm out from under the shawl, her hand open right in Mr. Gibbs' face, ready to take Jack's key.

Jack spluttered. Gibbs' stared cross-eyed at the woman's hand that was, he thought, dangling directly in front of his nose.

"Bu'… bu'… I'm the Captain!"

"Point being…"

"I sleep in the Captain's quarters!"

"Ah, now, Jack, mebbe we should le' her…"

"Gibbs! I don' believe yer takin' her side!"

"It seems to me, Jack, that a Captain should be more preoccupied with the honor of those aboard his ship than a silly little matter of where everyone stays…"

"She's got a point, Jack."

"Me own firs' mate, turnin' agains' me. I'll remember this, Gibbs, don' think I won'."

Gibbs would have responded if it had not been for Katherine's hand, which suddenly snapped in his face. "Come now, I'm getting very tired, it's been a long day." She smiled sweetly. "As it has been for you, Mr. Sparrow."

Jack grumbled, then started walking toward his cabin, leaving Katherine to follow him. Mr. Gibbs sighed greatly, then wiped the sweat from his face with his handkerchief. "It may be bad luck to have a woman aboard, but it's probably worse luck to not have this'un…" he muttered to himself as Jack opened the door to his cabin, bowing gallantly, Katherine swept in the room, grabbed the key from his fingers, and shut the door in his already trying to follow face.

Jack stood still for a moment, than ran his fingers through his loose hair and came walking toward Mr. Gibbs.

"Gibbs? Prepare a bed for me in the formal dining room. New Captain's quarters. Let the crew know about it, eh?"

Before Mr. Gibbs could answer in the positive, the door to the "old" captain's cabin creaked open a bit, and things came flying out. The two men ducked, but Jack was hit by something long, white, and a bit pointy. "Me bones!" He began scrambling to catch everything that came whizzing out of the door: A small sack containing his beads, his old shirt, trousers, sash, and other miscellaneous clothing items… THUNK! THUNK! There were his boots… one object floated through the air gracefully, and Jack jumped to catch his bandanna, and he settled down next to Gibbs again, sitting, setting everything next to each other to make sure it was all there. Wait a second…

CLANG! Jack reached up to feel a new sore spot on his head as Gibbs held out something shiny. His pistol. That meant… the men quickly moved out of the way as great silver object moved through the air with a swishing sound, pointing straight up from the deck where Jack had just been sitting with a thud. His sword.

"She's… got good aim." Gibbs whispered.

As if in answer, a something small and wooden landed in his lap.

"Me compass!" Jack shouted, as Gibbs handed it over. He opened it to make sure it was still working properly, frowned, shook it a bit, then closed the lid. "Tha' was a bit of an anti-climax!" He yelled toward the cabin door.

It opened one more time, and Jack and Mr. Gibbs shielded themselves. But nothing was thrown. The moonlight shown on a small white hand, a choice finger pointing upward toward the night sky.

"I advise we set up yer new quarters immediately, Cap'n," Gibbs said solemnly, and Jack nodded slowly, his eyes glued on the hand, which now withdrew, the door slamming shut. He could barely hear the click as the door locked.


	9. History

Jack Sparrow lay in the hammock that was strung across his formal dining room. There was something definitely wrong when a Captain was sleeping in the place where he usually ate. Well, actually he never really ate here. He ate in the galley with his crew. He remembered the last time he was in this room… Barbossa was still the captain of his ship, and Jack had been biting into an apple. And the last time he had slept in a hammock… oh dear… that was far too long ago to be bothered with.

The hammock made a shifting movement as Jack heard a couple of things roll across the floor. Jack gripped the sides of the hammock at the sudden shift to the right. Knew I shouldn't have left Gibbs at the helm, Jack thought. He looked shaky after that encounter with Katherine.

Katherine. Jack's mind returned to the Swann's estate, where he had been twirling her around the floor, how she had pressed her fingers to his lips. He put his forefinger to them, as if he could repeat the experience. Don't really see why she's so angry, what could be greater than escaping from those stiffs and coming aboard a pirate ship? Jack's mind returned to Katherine's more recent expressions of rage. He shivered as he remembered the sword coming, rushing through the air.

_Did it ever occur to you that I might like my life?_ The words raced through Jack's brain. He tried to put himself in her shoes, but it just wasn't clicking. Working as a barmaid in an iffy establishment… surely no one could like that life.

Jack turned on his side, and was immediately reminded of the difference between a bed and a hammock. Beds are very stable, while hammocks tend to capsize at the slightest movement. Jack found himself on the floor, having landed heavily on his right side. "That's going to hurt in the morning," he muttered.

As he slowly rose to his feet, dusting himself off, Jack noticed a small sound coming from the room next to him, his "old" cabin. Jack carefully placed one foot directly in front of the other, trying not to creak the weathered wood of his dining room floor. He put his ear up next to the wall.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Katherine wasn't having the best night on the other side of the wall. After having thrown out everything from the knapsack that could possibly have ever belonged to Jack Sparrow, she drew out the shift that she had hurriedly packed back in her room. Making sure that the door was locked, and the key was sitting on her nightstand, Katherine reached behind her and began to unbutton her red dress.

The top three buttons were the hardest for her to reach; she had to try a number of arm positions before getting them undone. The top three buttons… suddenly Katherine recalled the awkward incident that had left her sitting on Jack's lap. She suddenly brought the dress back up over her corset. Stupid Jack. Stupid… buttons! Glancing quickly at the door, she drew the shift over her head, and only then let the red dress go.

Well this certainly was more comfortable, not to mention more modest. Katherine set her red shoes down beside the large bed, its headboard against the back of the wall, jutting out into the room. It was haphazardly made, the covers just thrown up over the pillows; it made Katherine wince. She drew the covers back and carefully remade the bed, so the job was properly done. Well, and know I have to sleep in this thing, she thought. She looked at the bed suspiciously, as if the pillows could really be Jack in disguise. Fine. I have to sleep sometime. If only I could figure out which side the Jerk slept on, then I could avoid it…

Katherine walked over to the right side of the bed, and stood there for a couple of moments. I'm about to get into a pirate captain's bed. She would have smiled, even laughed, if the other circumstances hadn't been so grim. She quickly slipped under the blankets, lying on her back, drawing them up to her breast, and crossed her hands over her stomach. She stared at the ceiling for a bit, then turned on her side and pulled the blankets up over her shoulder.

I'm never going to get any sleep… she thought. She fluffed her pillow a bit, then lay down her head determinedly, then took a deep breath in. The pillow smelt familiar; she sunk her nose down into it a bit more, and then sat up, disgusted. "Does this whole damn ship have to smell like Jack Sparrow?!" She gave a little scream, than lifted up the pillow next to her, and tentatively brought it toward her face. "Yech." Even more Jack smell.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and put her feet on the cold floor of the cabin. There was a desk over in the corner; she decided to go examine the contents. Something was needed to settle her mind… Katherine figured that looking at even more pirate paraphernalia was as good a way as any.

Carefully, Katherine sat at the chair in front of the desk, ignoring the protesting squeaks it let out. There was an intricate map laying there, it had taken on the texture of the desk. Katherine turned up the oil up on a lantern sitting at the right corner of the desk, and looked more closely at the map. It didn't seem to be too old, there were fresh notes made on some of the islands, made in a precise hand. Katherine looked for Port Royal on the map, and there it was, the mapmaker's tiny print being the only thing that identified it as such. She set the lantern right next to Port Royal, and its yellow-orange light shone on a quick, sprawling, vicious looking note.

"The Last Medallion Obtained," the note read.

Medallion? More pirate legend, Katherine figured. She explored the map further, finding a blank spot down on the right lower corner. A key to the map lay right next to two more notes, one written in the precise hand, the other in the sprawling one.

The precise writing read, "Captain Jack Sparrow," the other, "Captain Hector Barbossa." The "Captain" on the latter had been scratched out many times, it looked like. So many times, it seemed, that the quill had made a tear in the map, which Katherine tugged on delicately, revealing the dark wood of the desk underneath.

Well, it did make sense, Katherine thought. It seems the two captains had made a habit of marking places with special notes, to help recount their adventures.

"Hector Barbossa…" Katherine whispered the name out loud as she traced it with her forefinger. There was something in the back of her brain, something that ached to be remembered. She thought as hard as she could, but only the annoying feeling of the memory being just out of reach returned to her. She shivered a bit, and suppressed a yawn. It looks like I might be ready for some sleep, she thought.

Katherine retrieved her red dress from the floor, and looked evilly at both the pillows that lay innocently at the head of the bed. She pushed them onto the floor, then bundled the dress under her head. Only on a pirate ship, she thought, would I be destroying the most expensive thing I own so that I can get a good night's sleep. I've got to watch this, it could turn into a nasty streak.

Her body slowly relaxed into the soft bed, her shoulders untensed, and Katherine could feel herself slowly drifting off to sleep.

She was in for a rude awakening.

"_Barbossa!_" Katherine sat straight up in bed for the second time, finally recalling the origin of the name. Barbossa was the name of the captain who had ordered the attack on Port Royal that night five years ago. Barbossa was the one who had kidnapped Elizabeth Swann, the one who had set fire and shot cannons at her beloved town. Barbossa had ruined her life.

Katherine quickly stuffed some of the red dress in her mouth, as a sob tried to escape her throat. The dress couldn't block everything, though. She heard a low, guttural sound come from her lips. She felt the fabric dampen beneath her as tears streamed down her face.

God, then this must be the ship… this must be the very place where the man worked, where he ate, where he… slept! Katherine practically leapt out of the bed, and ran toward the opposite wall where she quickly sank down, burying her face in her arms. "I just want to be done with pirates. All right? Is that in any way possible?" She whispered softly, the first shock over. She cried softly over the red dress, which she had forgotten to let go of.

oooooooooooooooooo

Jack quickly brought his head away from the wall. Yikes. Crying woman. He was not equipped to deal with this. But, she was just sitting over there, all by herself. Because she chose to be! Jack thought indignantly. I would have been more than happy to be in there with her! And then I could be comforting her at this very moment. Erm. Jack felt his neck turn warm. What? I'm blushing? Not. Possible. This is not good. Not good. NOT. GOOD.

But there she was, just sitting over there…

Jack rolled his eyes. I always have to do these things, don't I?

The dining room table was suddenly deprived of Jack's hat, as he settled it firmly on his head. "But I am _not_ going over there without my effects." Jack swooped up his gun and sword, fastening them around himself, and yanked on his boots.

Jack knocked on the door of his cabin, well, her cabin.

"Whoever you are, just please go away?"

"Katherine? It's me. Jack, tha' is. Erm. Well. Can I come in? Please?"

"Go away, you blasted pirate. Get the bloody hell away from me! Go jump off the side of the ship!"

Jack Sparrow had never, ever been in this situation before. Usually, the door opened after the first knock. He stood there for a couple of moments.

"You're not gone, are you…?"

"Nope."

"Are you _going_ to go?"

"Nope."

"God damn you to everlasting bloody hell, Jack Sparrow." But he heard movement inside the cabin, a rustling noise, and then footsteps coming near the door. There was a soft click, and then the door opened slightly.

"What the hell do you want."

"I… I heard ye. From my captain's quarters." He gestured to the formal dining room to demonstrate. "Are ye, em… is ever'thin' all righ' over here?"

"Yes. Everything's spectacular."

The sarcasm made Jack smirk. "Righ'. Because my intuitive sense of the female mind has made me think that certain things were…" Jack sighed. "Katherine. I heard ye cryin'. Can I please come in, or are ye gonna make me stan' ou' here all nigh'?"

Katherine reluctantly opened the door to admit Jack. He stopped himself from gawping at her costume change, after all, it was just flimsy cream shift after all… STOP! He walked sulkily into his cabin, sitting heavily on the bed. Katherine steered toward the chair in front of the desk, and sat down there.

"So," Jack began. "Ye… ye havin' some trouble adjustin' to the piratey life?" He opened his mouth to say more, something about the sea breezes and salt air not agreeing with her, but stopped at the miserable look Katherine gave him. She whispered something, so softly that Jack couldn't quite catch it.

"Wha' was tha'?"

"Barbossa," Katherine said, only slightly louder. "He used to be the captain of this ship."

"Only after a grave injustice to myself, bu' he was, yah. Wha's it te ye?"

"It's a long story."

"We've got a bit o' time, love."

Katherine leaned forward a bit in the chair, causing Jack to lower his gaze a bit to her neckline. But he saw that she was running her hands through her hair, and she looked straight up at him, her eyes swollen.

"Right. A bit of time. I guess that's right. After all, I can't really go back, now can I? I've certainly got all the time in the world to tell you." She sighed. "I was… Elizabeth's handmaid, five years ago."

Jack stared at her, confused. "Yes, I can see why bein' in such a position would make ye cry…"

"Shut up, Jack. Don't you, of all people, remember where this ship was, five years ago?"

"I wasn't Captain then. It was the pockmarked Barbossa. I had jus' been takin' in the hospitality of the Royal Navy, chapter of Port Royal, at the time." Jack frowned at the memory. "And then…"

"And then Port Royal was attacked. By this ship."

"And the whelp came to me because he couldn't rescue his girl all by his onsie… yes yes I remember all of this. But how do ye know tha'?

"I didn't know the part about the whelp, but thanks for informing me. The point is, Elizabeth was kidnapped that night, wasn't she? I remember… she had already been seen by the pirates, I had caught a glimpse of them, but they hadn't seen me. So Elizabeth told me to run down to the Fort, to protect myself. She had just hit one of them in the head with a bedwarmer… I was running out of the house… but I couldn't just leave her there. Not like that, not alone. So I went back…"

"Tha' was stupid. Runnin' into a house packed full o' pirates. Well, Barbossa's pirates."

"Yes, I figured that out soon after, thanks. A couple of them grabbed me… I screamed bloody murder. I guess they figured it would be easier to handle someone who wasn't shouting at the top of her lungs. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in this dark cell, water all around me."

"They tossed ye in the brig…" Jack whispered. "Bu' Barbossa didn' take no pris'ners. Not unless they would be useful to 'im…"

Katherine continued as if Jack had not spoken. "I soon received a visit from a man who called himself 'Captain Barbossa,' who then told me a story about some Aztec gold, and that they had just obtained the last piece. He told me what the curse did to them. Then he told me what he intended to do with me now that the curse was about to be lifted."

_For too long I've been starving to death, and haven't died. For too long I've been parched of thirst and unable to quench it. For too long the pleasures of female company have evaded my grasp…_

Katherine shivered again.

Jack realized, of course, what she was talking about, he knew the curse's effects as well as a member of Barbossa's crew. He suddenly rose and knelt beside Katherine's form. She was looking away now, toward the door. "I'm sorry. I shouldn'a joked abou' it."

"It's all right," Katherine said, still looking away. "After that… I just had to get out of there. I waited for the opportune moment to come, but nothing seemed to be working out my way. But then one night, the whole crew left the ship. And they gave me a chicken leg to eat." She smiled wryly. "Two mistakes. I stripped the bone of all meat, and stuck it in the lock, wiggled it around until the cell door sprung free. I ran to the top deck… we were at some kind of huge cave, I could see the entrance… and there were all sorts of debris floating around… so I got into a lifeboat and started to row the hell away from there. I had no idea where I was going. Just… away. And after two days, I met up with this Navy ship, the…"

"…the _Dauntless_?"

Katherine was startled. "You know it? They took me aboard, and lucky me, I found it was being captained by good old Commodore Norrington. They stowed me away in a room. That night… there was this horrible battle, I don' t really know, my room was away in the depths of the ship, I couldn't hear anything, I just saw the bloodstains on the deck the following morning. And then I was soon back in Port Royal. I couldn't go back to Elizabeth… not after all that. So I went and applied at the 'Faithful Bride." Where I stayed for a very long time, until I met you, Jack Sparrow. And the rest of the story, you know."

"Aye, I think I know it well."

"Well, there's your story, Jack. And I suppose I wasn't too pleased to see that this was that very same ship where I was stowed so long ago, that this very room is where that blasted man slept. So. That's why I was crying. Do you think you'll be able to sleep now, now that the great mystery of the world has been solved?"

"Aw, Katherine…"

"Piss off, Jack."

But he didn't. He circled his arms around her instead. And to his surprise, after a few moments of stiffness, Katherine hugged him lightly back. "Thanks for letting me spout off." She sniffled, and the two parted.

"Righ' then. Erm. I'll just be gettin' back, to my cabin. Then. Good? Good."

Katherine absentmindedly waved a "goodnight" to Jack as he stepped out of the cabin. He immediately leaned his head against the door. "Bloody hell," he whispered. Soft, pretty, witty, and courageous? He wasn't sure he could handle this…


	10. Moving In

Katherine woke up early the next morning, to the familiar sound of brash seagull squawks. She stretched out in the unnaturally large bed she was in. "Mmmmph." Katherine huddled into a ball again, gathering the covers to herself and trying to regain the comfortable position she was in when the seagulls rattled her out of her dreams. It was a rather pleasant dream too, she remembered little wisps of it, but the rest escaped her. She screwed her eyes determinedly shut and buried her face into her pillow, breathed in deeply and tried to settle herself back into some sort of sleep.

"Aaaaaarrgh," Why did she have to breathe? Why? Katherine had managed to put her own stamp on the pillow by covering it with her red dress, but there was no doubting who had slept here the past five years. All thought of gaining further sleep vanishing, Katherine beat her fist against the pillow a few times and sat up. She felt very grumpy, and not a little embarrassed, now that Jack Sparrow knew her whole bloody sob story. She groaned to herself again. "Bloody… night time… with its… bloody…" she wasn't quite sure how to blame the night for her predicament, and so her words petered out to an inaudible grumbling again as Katherine swung her legs over the bed and slipped her feet into her red shoes from the night before and adjusted her shift for any wrinkles that might be lingering. Yes. Adjusting a linen shift for wrinkles after sleeping in it, Katherine thought. Definitely an achievable task. But somehow, it seemed more palatable than going _out there_, out on deck, where heaven knows what could be wandering around. _Yech_.

But all too soon, the non-existent task of twiddling with her dress was over with. Katherine looked around the cabin once more, desperate for something to do, for something to keep her body and mind busy.

The whole place was a dump. The right corner of Katherine's mouth twitched, then slyly rose. She pushed up the sleeves of her dress, one after the other, and started by making the bed, pulling her red dress off the pillow and heading for the magnificent wooden wardrobe standing on one side of the cabin to fold it back up, nicely.

Draping the elegant dress over one arm, Katherine had to use all of her strength to push open the heavy door of the wardrobe. A couple of rum bottles came clattering out, and she stepped back to avoid a collision, rolling her eyes. The wooden shelves inside the wardrobe were just as much of a mess as everything as the room outside of it, clothes were haphazardly crumpled, but just on the left side, where the shelves were more narrowly spaced. On the right side, the shelves were put more widely apart, just high enough for a rum bottle to stand straight up with a couple of inches above it. Four shelves stood on the right side, most of them taken up with rum. Most of them were empty. The left had all kinds of clothing and accessories, spread out among its eight shelves.

Right.

Katherine swept out all the empty rum bottles, first. They fell to the floor with a clang, and she opened the door to the cabin, tossing them out by handfuls. She heard some muffled shouting coming from the deck, but ignored it. As soon as the room was rid of them, she promptly shut the door, heading straight back for the wardrobe.

Folding all the clothing as quickly as she could was a difficult task, as Katherine didn't want to, well, touch it too much. They fit neatly on five of the eight shelves once they were all tidy. Lovingly, Katherine folded her red dress, her last reminder of Port Royal, and placed it lightly in a ladies' dress box she had found. She didn't really want to know where it came from. It fit perfectly on the right side, taking up half of one shelf.

There, the wardrobe was done. Katherine raised her arm to her forehead, and wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. She knelt back on her legs, piling her hair on her head and holding it there with one hand, fanning herself with the other.

"Workin' hard?"

Katherine's hand stopped mid-fan, and she turned her head over her shoulder to see Jack standing in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. Had she really forgotten to lock it back up? Damn.

He was wearing an amused expression as he swayed into the cabin, sitting on the bed. "So this is wha' the counterpane looks like…" He said, taking a bit of it up in his hands and fingering it. "Looks nice. Must've filched it from somewhere."

Katherine let out a little snort of disgust.

At the sound, Jack leaned forward. His hands suddenly stopped fidgeting as they clasped each other between his knees. "Look. Erm. I just wan' te le' ye know. Tha'." He paused. Coughed. Scratched his forehead. Katherine waited. "I think ye. Are. Really brave. And. Soft." Jack's eyes widened. Did he really say that? Good God. Jack tilted his head so he was looking down at the floor. Just breathe, man. You're behaving like a doe-eyed teenager. Breathe. He heard himself take a deep gasp of air in.

Slowly, Jack brought his head up so he could see Katherine. She was turned away again, facing the wardrobe.

SOFT? What kind of compliment is that, Jack Sparrow, ladies' man? Huh? Jack thought to himself. SOFT?!?! She's going to stand up, run, and jump in the ocean screaming. You idiot. You… you…

"Um…" Katherine began.

Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Why can't you learn to just keep your big, fat, mouth, just…

"Thank… you…?"

…Open?

"Right. Yer… yer welcome," Jack nodded, and stood up to go.

"Jack?"

"Yah?" He stopped midstep, whirling around.

"No, I really meant it," Katherine stood up. She one arm across her chest, supporting the other elbow with her hand. She was leaning her head in her hand, her face was screwed up like she was really regretting this. She brought her hand down, than looked up at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, her right foot met the floor with a stomp. "Damnit."

"Wha'?"

"I'm not supposed to like a PIRATE."

ooooooo

It had been a hectic night for Commodore James Norrington. He had raced down to the docks with Lieutenant Gilette, determined to reach them before _The Black Pearl_ set sail.

Of course, Jack Sparrow had to know better. He always did. By the time James had arrived, breathless, at _The Pearl's _port, it had been ready to set sail.

James brought his fist down on his heavy wood table, in his study overlooking the ocean. His white wig sat a few inches beside it, most of the hairs now out of place. He had roughly pulled it off his head when he entered his study, throwing it in a vague direction.

This wasn't fair. Not fair at all. Katherine Winston had lived in HIS city for all these years, and Jack Sparrow just comes out of nowhere, out of thin air, like he always does, and sweeps her away. Although, she wasn't being "swept" very well, James thought as he remembered some colorful shrieking just as the ship had pulled out of sight. In fact, he thought he had seen a figure go down, and he was pretty sure it hadn't been Katherine.

James Norrington grinned to himself.

Now, how could he use this to his advantage? He knew Jack was out there, somewhere very close. If he could get the infamous "Captain" Jack Sparrow now, on this, his life would be complete.

Norrington knew that the general public of Port Royal rarely got excited. Two things were certain to get them so, however. A hanging, and a marriage of an officer in a high position. It looked as if he was in the position to give them both.

James' lips once again curled upward.

Perfect.


	11. Tricksy

It was decided by Jack Sparrow that Mr. Gibbs, despite his impeccable skills as a first mate, had a horrible sense of timing. After his declaration of… well, softness, Jack had gone in for the kill. Katherine had just looked so damn adorable, standing in the middle his room, her sweaty hair clinging to her neck, bringing her bare foot down to floor like an impatient child. He could just imagine her with her fists in the air, her hair sticking out in pigtails, dressed in a baby doll outfit… and there's where he made his imagination stop.

"I'm not supposed to like a _pirate!_" Katherine's mouth had pouted prettily, mutating into that discontented shape that Jack knew so well already.

"Well, for not supposing to like a pirate, you've chosen the worst one to support, unless of course it was just me that you just happened to suppose to support and purposed, therefore proposed to fall for."

She stared at him dumbly. "That didn't make any sense."

"Nonsense never does." Jack shrugged a bit, holding his arms out as if he was just about to shake them from side to side.

Katherine turned her head slightly, but kept her eyes on Jack's. He's trying to confuse me, she thought. He's playing some sort of little mind game, and he's hoping that I'm not going to understand, and that I'll get trapped up in it. And at the end of it all, he's going to try and get a kiss. Voluntarily. She narrowed her eyes at this last thought, then eased her way around the side of the wall and onto the bed, folding into herself as much as possible, bringing her knees up to her chest and crossing her arms over them, then looking warily over her arms at Jack, who still had his arms out, now seemingly in defense.

"Ah now, Kathy, can I call you Kathy?"

"It's Katherine."

"I like Kathy. Kathy-rine. Kathy-ra-rine. Sooo much more interesting than just Kath-rine, don't you agree?"

"It's. Katherine."

"C'mon, Kathy-rine, I'm not so terribly scary after all, am I, I mean, you like me, I like me, Mr. Gibbs likes me, the crew, presumably, likes me. The newly wedded Turners like me, in fact, Elizabeth likes me so much that she kissed me. Right before she killed me, if I remember. Perhaps she didn't like me that much then. Will didn't like me then. But. They like me now."

Katherine stared at him as he advanced. She was looking over her knees, sitting on the bed, her eyes widened as Jack sidled closer.

"Cause… you like me. Right?"

"Did I say that?"

"You said that." Jack sat on the bed, draping an arm across Katherine's shoulder. She edged away slightly.

"I may have said I liked you, but I still don't like the smell of you," she pronounced, pushing Jack away and managing to firmly kick him in the chest in the process. Jack fell to the floor with an "oof."

Katherine waited to hear some kind of snarky comment rise, but silence met her ears.

"Jack."

Nothing.

"Jack, this isn't funny. I barely touched you."

Still nothing.

Katherine swept down on the floor and rolled over the semi-hunched pirate in order to chastise him. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head, and his mouth was half open.

"Blast."

Katherine lowered her head to Jack's chest, searching for a heartbeat, and heart a faint thumping. "Come on, you. Wake up." She slapped his face around a few times, only earning herself the view of Jack's tongue which slightly poked itself out of the side of his mouth. She groaned.

"I hate you, Jack Sparrow…"

Reluctantly, Katherine maneuvered one leg over Jack's stomach and lowered her head toward his, looking disgustedly at Jack's mustache and goatee. She pulled the sleeve of her dress over her hand briefly and ineffectually stabbed her clothed hand at Jack's mouth once or twice, anything to get that slimy tongue back where it belonged.

Again looking at her task, Katherine grimaced, then uttered a word she rarely used.

"Bugger."

She placed her fingers on Jack's nose, pinching it shut, grasping his chin with the other hand, forcing his mouth open. Than she slowly, very, very, slowly, opened her mouth, screwed shut her eyes, and put her lips on Jack Sparrow's.

Bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger. Katherine's mind raced. She breathed out into Jack's mouth, then breathed in. Breathed out, then in, out then in. Than she lifted her head, and pressed on Jack's chest several times.

Isn't the blighter breathing YET?? Katherine thought desperately. She lowered her cheek to his mouth, and felt nothing. Apparently not.

Bugger. She lowered her head again, and breathed out, then in. Then felt something pressing back and something that felt very much like two arms going around the back of her. And she was light-headed for a couple of seconds as she suddenly sitting up.

After about ten seconds of this, including what seemed to be a reappearance of Jack's tongue, the pressure on her back decreased somewhat, and Katherine found herself looking directly into the deep brown eyes of the person she was supposed to be resuscitating just seconds before.

"I… you... bloody hell!" She stammered.

"That good, eh?" Jack smirked, showing his front gold teeth.

"You TRICKED me, you bastard!"

Jack's smirk suddenly turned into a frown. "No, not really, you really did knock the wind out of me, it really was a nast kick there…"

Katherine hit her fists on Jack's chest. "You… tricked… me… you… bloody… bugger…"

"You said bugger." Jack interrupted.

"You're rubbing off on me. You're a bad influence. Now let me GO!"

Jack answered by pressing his lips to hers again.

Katherine responded to this by continually beating on his chest, hard.

Mr. Gibbs, sensing a commotion, burst into Jack's cabin.

Jack parted from Katherine, spotted Mr. Gibbs, and instinctively pushed Katherine off of himself and stood up.

Mr. Gibbs cursed and covered his eyes, ruing the day he ever met Jack Sparrow.

Katherine cursed and stormed out of the cabin, ruing the day he ever met Jack Sparrow.

Jack cursed and sat heavily on the bed, ruing the day he ever met… himself.


End file.
